Reflections
by deomniallyd
Summary: Every time Rose looks at her daughter, she can't help but be reminded of her own past. ONE-SHOT. COMPLETE. Plz review!


**A/N: Characters belong to Mr. Jim Cameron.**

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**1918**

It was a warm day in New York City. Jack was off at some art gallery showing, so Rose decided to take her 3 year old daughter Josie to Coney Island. She was due with hers and Jack's second child, a boy that they were planning to name Jackson, any day now. So she wanted to give Josie as much attention as possible so the small girl wouldn't feel neglected when the baby arrived.

"Ready to go love?" Rose smiled down at her baby girl.

"Yee Mommy, let's go!" Josie bounced up and down eagerly.

"Okay," Rose laughed and held Josie's hand tightly as they crossed the busy street.

"Rollercoasters there?" Josie asked excitedly.

"Yes sweetheart, there's rollercoasters," Rose grinned.

They reached Coney Island and walked across the sandy beach up to the pier/amusement park area. Josie was jumping around, eyes wide, so curious to the world around her. "I paint picture for Daddy?" she asked, looking up at her mother.

Rose laughed. "You want to paint a picture for Daddy? Oh I'm sure he would love that," she told her. She knew Jack loved the fact that Josie shared their interest in the fine arts. Their daughter was very special, she'd grow up to do great things, travel the world with some paint and a big canvas...making the world a better place one brush stroke at a time.

"Look!" Josie squeaked, pointing at a large rollercoaster. "Ride?" she asked with a glint of hope in her bright seafoam eyes.

"Oh no sweetheart, I'm sorry but you're too small to go on that one, why don't we go look at the kiddie rides?" Rose suggested, a sad smile across her face.

"No!" Josie stamped her small foot. "I ride big 'un!" she insisted.

Rose couldn't help but smile at the fire that shone in the little girl's eyes. Determination. Every time Rose looked at her daughter, she was reminded of herself a bit, Josie shared her mother's passion for the things she believed in.

_"Rosie, wear the corset sweetie, it will make you prettier" Ruth DeWitt Bukater insisted to her 6 year old daughter._

_"No! I'm pretty enough like this!" Rose argued._

_"Yes of course baby, but look at how pretty this is, and it matches your dress and gloves SO well!" Ruth said._

_"NO!" Rose cried, running from the room and slamming the door behind her._

If truth be told, Josie was a perfect mixture of Jack and Rose both. She had strawberry blonde hair, a mix of both her parents' hair colors, and bright seafoam eyes like her father's. But what really stood out about Josephine Ruth Dawson, was how her personality was so similar to her mother's...it was almost uncanny.

"Oh alright, we'll go and ask the nice man if he'll let you ride the big one," Rose decided. Because if truth be told, Rose was the opposite of her mother, she refused to deny her daughter opportunities for adventure. She wanted Josie to have the childhood that she herself had been so cruelly robbed of by society's clutches.

_"Oh mommy, can't I please go play with Anna?" pleaded 9 year old Rose._

_"Absolutely not, I'll not have you playing with the daughter of a seamstress, it's unheard of!" Ruth snapped._

_"But we're friends mother!" Rose begged._

_"No you aren't. She's a poor village girl, you have so much more of a brighter future than she'll ever have to look forward to," Ruth insisted._

_"But-"_

_"No ifs ands or buts, Rose, it is done," Ruth said, stalking off._

_Rose crossed her arms and sat down in the corner, all she could do was cry. She had no bright future to look forward to, atleast Anna O'Brien was free to make her own choices..._

_And Rose wished she'd grown up a poor little village girl._

They walked up to the man operating the large rollercoaster. "Excuse me Sir," Rose tapped his shoulder.

The man turned. "What can I help ya with Miss?" he smiled brightly.

"Could I take my daughter on this ride? I know she's a bit small, but she really wanted to ride it, and I'll be with her," Rose pleaded.

"Er, well regulation says, oh all right..." the man agreed, nodding for them to go on through.

"Thanks so much mister rollercoaster man!" Josie squeaked, hugging the man's leg tightly.

"O-Oh, no problem little girl, it's Bill by the way," the man laughed.

"Nice to meet you, this is Josie, and I'm Rose. Thanks again, and I'm sorry about her..." Rose laughed, pulling Josie off of his leg.

Rose led Josie into the long line waiting to ride the big rollercoaster. "Thank you so much Mommy!" Josie said, beaming up at her mother.

Josie had always been very polite, it ran through her veins, from the Dutch blue blood she'd inherited from her mother's side. Every time Rose looked at her daughter, she couldn't help but be reminded of her mother Ruth, every single time the small girl said 'thank you' or even 'please'.

_"Here's your loaf of bread Ma'am, anything else you'll be requirin' tod'ay?" the merchant asked._

_"No thank you kind Sir," Ruth said, taking the bread and leading her daughter away from the marketplace._

_"Mommy why do you always say thank you to strangers?" 7 year old Rose wanted to know._

_"Because darling, a lady always says thank you, it's only polite," Ruth replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world._

Finally it was their turn to board the rollercoaster. Rose looked down to see if Josie was nervous, and she didn't seem to be. "Ready Josie?" she asked with a smile.

Josie beamed. "Ready Mommy," she answered, her stance was tall and proud.

And Rose remembered a time when she herself was very brave.

_"Do you trust me?" Jack asked._

_"I trust you," 17 year old Rose answered._

_"On three, 1-2-3, NOW!" Jack yelled over the roaring waves...or was it the dying engines perhaps?_

_Rose held her breath as the RMS Titanic sank, and all 1,500 passengers were plunged down into the frigid Northern Atlantic ocean. But Rose was not scared, because she had Jack by her side the entire time. And by the end of the whole ordeal, tragic as it was for some, Rose was finally free._


End file.
